


just want you home

by rosekings



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, some excellent angst here guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:31:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18319055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosekings/pseuds/rosekings
Summary: El takes a jagged breath, clutching Mike’s shirt tight in her fists. Guilt wracks her nerves, frazzles them, nauseates her. She can feel tears pushing against her eyes again and a rush of hot rage fills her. She’s so angry at herself, she’s always angry at herself, for all the mistakes she’s made and the ones that she seems to keep making.





	just want you home

**Author's Note:**

> written as a prompt fill for a friend on my tumblr, dustinhendrsn!

There’s no moonlight streaming into the basement so when El wakes up, sweaty and gasping, hair plastered to the back of her neck, she can’t see a thing and it only adds to her disorientation. She nearly knocks Mike off the couch as she shoots up and out of his arms into a sitting position, choking for air in the darkness.

_It’s day three hundred fifty-three._

Her chest burns with the effort her lungs are making to pull air in and push it back out. Everything is so dry – her tongue, her hands, her nerves. 

_Even if I did know, I’d never tell you._

“Mike. _Mike._ ” The fabric of the couch cushions bunched up in one hand to steady herself, she reaches out with her other. Her breathing is getting shallower by the second. _“Mike!”_

Mike makes a startled noise as El’s voice chases away his sleep. He fumbles to sit up without falling backwards, his body a black outline against a blacker backdrop. His hands slowly find her, lightly touching her shoulders and then moving to cup her face. 

“El? El, are you – breathe, El, okay? Just breathe with me. In and out…in…and out. You’re okay, El. You’re safe. Breathe with me, El.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her fingers weakly grasping at his wrists as she follows what he says. After another burning, everlasting minute she gets her breathing under control, but the sharp-edged voices and cloudy, despairing memories in her head won’t subside.

“Mike,” she sobs, tears leaking out from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mike, I’m –“

“ _El._ ” Mike pulls her against his chest, tightening his warm arms around her. “It’s okay, it’s all okay, I’m right here, El, it’s okay –“

_He needs me._

Chest heaving, she buries her face in his shirt. He keeps his voice low, talking and talking and talking to her as the fan whirs in the corner of the room and the wind whistles outside. She focuses on those calming, monotonous sounds, and on Mike’s warm presence that’s been a constant ever since she shut the gate some seven months ago. 

“I made a mistake,” she finally whispers, into the soft cotton of his shirt. “I never should have left you.”

Mike gently strokes her hair, peeling away the strands stuck to her neck. “What do you mean?”

“When I was with Hopper. I heard you every night and I should have said something, I should have reached out – you never even knew I was _there –_ “

“It’s okay, El –“

“It’s _not,_ ” she protests, looking up at him. “I _hurt you,_ Mike. I saw you every _night._ That whole year, you weren’t happy, you were in pain, and that was _my_ fault. I shouldn’t have listened to Hopper, I should have _done_ something!”

She takes a jagged breath, clutching Mike’s shirt tight in her fists. Guilt wracks her nerves, frazzles them, nauseates her. She can feel tears pushing against her eyes again and a rush of hot rage fills her. She’s so _angry_ at herself, she’s _always_ angry at herself, for all the mistakes she’s made and the ones that she seems to keep making.

Mike shakes his head, one hand firmly splayed across her cheek. “No, El. Hopper was keeping you _safe._ If you came to see me, the lab might have found you, and they could’ve taken you away or – or worse.” He pulls her closer even though there’s not any distance left to get rid of. “Of course I wasn’t _happy,_ but it wasn’t your fault, El. I missed you so much, all the time, but I never gave up on you because I knew you had to stay safe. I’m okay as long as you’re safe. I just want you to be _safe_ and here and...I want you to be _happy_ being here. I want you to feel _home.”_

A small wave of comfort washes over her, temporarily soothing out the rough aching of her heart. “I always am when I’m with you,” she says quietly, her voice still wobbly. She tucks her head under his chin, right where it fits and where it feels like it’s always belonged, and Mike sighs into her hair, the tension seeping out of his shoulders.

Despite all his words, as the night creeps on, El can’t help the guilty knots her stomach stubbornly twists into. All her nightmares are ghosts of her time in the Void, all the nights she listened to him talk to her and hurt over her and miss her to the point of tears. She silently watched him rage and cry and talk to what he thought was empty space for so long that eventually his hollow eyes closed and he fell asleep, radio clutched in hand.

“I’m not going to hurt you anymore,” she whispers into his chest, so softly that she’s not sure if he can hear her over the rustling summer breeze outside. Her heartstrings pull tight. “No one is going to hurt you anymore, Mike. I promise.”

The static sound that issued from the radio whenever he waited for her to say something, anything – _I just need to know if you’re out there, El_ – it never leaves her ears.


End file.
